. A nervous spark of pain would fly up my arm and settle to bum like an ember in the thick of my shoulder. An hour, two passed. Three. My whole body would assume regular movements; my shoveling would be described by identical, even movements. Even later in the day, my enthusiasm for primitive sensation would survive the heat and the dust and the insects pricking my back.
Reading this makes me understand why I like working out so much. Yes the idea of it isn't as appealing BUT, when you get into the motions you feel great.